


What He Would Have Wanted

by HidingBehindMyMask



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:08:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HidingBehindMyMask/pseuds/HidingBehindMyMask
Summary: Suffering a tragic loss, Stiles flees Beacon Hills. When the town and his friends are in danger, will he come back to save them?





	What He Would Have Wanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lexiee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexiee/gifts).



> Hello! First fic in this fandom, I hope it doesn't disappoint. This is a fic for the 2018 Steter secret Santa, so Sheflieswithherowndamnwings I hope you like it, and I hope I have tagged you the right way. If the person I have gifted this story to is not her, please tell me. Also, if there are any inconsistencies, spelling mistakes or other, please tell me and I will fix it! Other than that, I hope you enjoy the story!

As stereotypical and moviesque as it was, Stiles had always associated rain to bad days. The day he fell over on the front steps of the house at 5 years old in his haste to greet his father and broke his arm. The day Jimmy O’Donnell from 4th grade decided that Stiles spoke too fast, too loud and just couldn’t sit still so being his best friend wasn’t worth it. The day his mother tried to drown him in the tub for the first time, and his father sat him down on the couch to tell him she was sick and hadn’t meant it when she yelled ‘he’s the devil’. The day he sat alone at his mother’s hospital bed as she slept until her breathing just stopped.  
So it really didn’t surprise Stiles that it was raining the day his father was bowled over by a feral omega werewolf with claws embedding deep into his throat. The drops had only started to fall when he managed to scramble over to him, wide-eyed and terrified as blood gushed rapidly from the wound. He didn’t even notice as Peter pulled the werewolf off his dad and struck his hand through his heart before jumping back into battle. His hands pressed harshly to the wound, and inside he knew there was no way his dad would survive with actual medical attention; the only chance he had of living was if Scott gave him the bite. Stiles called down to his father, imploring him to stay awake, but the sheriff had already passed out, skin growing pale and ashen.  
Stiles wiped his head around the clearing, trying to spot Scott, and to his relief he was already rushing over to him, the pack still battling the remaining omegas. As soon as Scott was within reach, Stiles grabbed his hand and pulled him down harshly, words already leaving his mouth in a rush.

“Scott you gotta give the bite there’s no time for anything else he’s already bleeding out come on do something my dad’s gonna die!”

His head flicked from his dad’s face to Scott’s, still babbling and growing increasingly agitated as his best friend sat there with a stern look on his face.

“Dude bite him! He’s gonna die why aren’t you doing anything!”

Scott’s face morphed into a conflicted expression, and he shook his head as he spoke.

“I can’t Stiles.”

Stiles frowned and looked at his best friend incredulously before choking out a quick ‘What the fuck do you mean you can’t!’

“He didn’t give permission Stiles. I can’t in good conscience turn him without being sure it’s what he would want.”

Under his hands, Stiles could feel his father’s heartbeat slowing down and he turned back to him and started to beg.

“Please dad, you can’t die, you’re all I have left. Mom left me, you can’t leave me too.”

He whipped his head to Scott and shouted, tears mixing with the rain that was starting to pour more heavily.

“Scott do it! He can’t die you can’t let him die, please! Just do this for me!”

But Scott just shook his head and gave him a pitying look. Stiles felt a presence at his side and turned a pleading gaze to the werewolf next to him, voice trembling.

“Peter please, save him.”

Instead, the older wolf wrapped his arms around the human and started to pull him away from the sheriff. Stiles protested and thrashed, hands still pressed to his father’s throat. _Why was he pulling him away! His father was gonna die if he didn’t keep pressure on the wound._ In a second though, he froze and so did Peter, sensing the change in him. His eyes widened impossibly as he realized there was nothing moving beneath his hands. _No pulse. There was no pulse._ Slowly, terrified of what he would see, Stiles turned his head to where his father laid. The sheriff’s skin was paler than he had ever seen it, looking almost gray, and when Stiles lifted his hands from the wound, blood was no longer spilling.

The brunet knew his father was dead and he almost wished that he could deny it, refuse to believe it, but that wasn’t how he worked. He worked with facts, he was quick, he figured things out fast, denial just didn’t exist to him in situations like these.

As soon as the realization washed over him, he folded himself over his father’s body, face pressed into his chest and cried.

He lost track of time for a while after he passed out from exhaustion, but he does recall having Scott kneel in front of him at the police station and ask him to testify that a mountain lion had attacked his father before fleeing as soon as Christopher Argent shot at it. Perhaps it was the shock, or maybe even knowing deep down that he couldn’t let anyone know what had really happened for the sake of the town’s safety, but he did as he was told.

When he finally came to, he was laying in his bed with Peter wrapped around him. As soon as his eyes swept the room and memories of his father surfaced, he felt his throat seize up and his breathing go erratic. Peter must have sensed the upcoming panic attack because he was sitting up and pulling him to his chest in an instant, murmuring soft promises of _it’s going to be okay_ and _you’re fine_ in his ear. When his breathing was back under control, Stiles was exhausted again and let himself be swept off to sleep.

The second time he woke up, Stiles noticed something felt different. It wasn’t… _physical_. It was like his emotions were back under control; he didn’t feel overwhelming sadness or grief. All that was left was an emptiness deep inside him. When he glanced next to him, he realized Peter was gone. _This might be my only chance of doing this_.

With slight difficulty – he must have been out for quite a while – the teen slid out of bed and headed straight for his closet, pulling out a duffel bag and starting to pack it with the bare essentials. He wasn’t sure when exactly this plan had formed, but it had to have been while he was out, considering this was only the second time he had been awake since his father’s death. He stilled for a second, surprised that admitting the fact hadn’t sent him into hysterics again. _I must still be in shock_.

As soon as his bag was packed, he headed out, hopped into his car – thank whoever was out there that they had been placed back on their hook – and drove off, not sparing a glance back as he left Beacon Hills behind.

* * *

Many would compare Scott McCall to a puppy, with big round eyes and pouty lips when he didn’t get his way. He was a sweetheart and had a megawatt smile. Yes, many would compare him to a puppy, but Peter knew better. He wasn’t this innocent, naive little creature; no, he was ignorant, plain and simple. When he realizes he won’t get his way, he glares, he ignores, and he guilts. When he hears news he doesn’t like, he conveniently forgets about it and pretends everything is fine. And when he makes a mistake, it just isn’t a mistake. How could Scott McCall, true alpha, ever make a mistake.

So when Stiles disappeared 3 days after his father’s death, it had nothing to do with the fact that it was his fault the sheriff had died. No, it was Peter. It had to be, Peter was a psychopath, Scott always knew Peter was bad for him, would hurt him, would come between Scott and Stiles.

Peter was in no way surprised when the teenager showed up at his apartment, face pinched in anger and hands curling and uncurling into fists.

Of course, Peter had heard the rumble of his bike parking 3 floors down, had smelled his scent wafting up and stinking up his apartment. But even without his werewolf senses, Peter had honestly been expected him.

He opened the door with a blank look on his face and looked down at the teenager fuming in his doorway.

“What do you want.”

He drawled.

Scott’s face contorted even more, seeming outraged that Peter couldn’t magically know what he wanted. Finally Scott spat out some words, barely discernable with his face suddenly transforming and letting his fangs show.

“What did you do to Stiles! Where is he! His stuff is gone!”

With a sigh, Peter hooked a foot over the other, let himself lean to the side against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

“I am aware he is gone, I don’t know where, and he left by no fault of mine.” He gave a pointed look at Scott and raised an eyebrow.

“Now if that’s all you came here for, I’m going to ask you to leave, I’d like to get back to my books.”

He turned around and closed the door, leaving Scott spluttering just outside.

“I know you did something Peter! He wouldn’t just leave like this without telling me! You aren’t part of the pack anymore!”

And with that the angry teenager turned and stomped off to the elevator.

A sigh left Peter as soon as the brunet was out of the building and zooming off on his dirt bike. He closed his eyes and searched around for any pack bonds, and sighed once more when he felt the absence of any connection to the McCall pack. That certainly complicated things.

* * *

Scott was fuming. Not only was he in pain thanks to the burns running down his back, but 3 of his pack members were missing. Life had regained normality 4 months after Stiles left Beacon Hills; everyone was moping around, missing the Spark, and it had gotten on the werewolf’s nerves. He had finally snapped one evening when Liam had whined about missing Stiles for the fourth time that night; he had let out a roar before threatening them into never speaking about the other male again. Clearly Stiles was a horrible and selfish friend, abandoning them like that after such a terrible loss. The pack had begrudgingly respected his order, never speaking of the missing teen in front of him. That didn’t stop them from talking about him when Scott wasn’t close enough to hear them, occasionally huddling close together and sharing stories about Stiles.

So of course, because his life was so terrible, witches had decided that Beacon Hills was the perfect place to settle down 2 years after the sheriff’s death. That in itself wasn’t a problem, Scott always liked to welcome anyone supernatural into the territory, it always meant potential allies. Although he always conveniently forgot that it also meant, more often than not, potential enemies as well.

So when Derek had come back with news of a whole coven of witches rolling into town and warned him that it might be dangerous, Scott had waved away his concern. Sure it wasn’t the smartest decision, but clearly Derek should have tried harder to convince him. If he had insisted enough, Scott obviously would have been more careful.

A day later, Scott set off to meet the witches and offer them a home in Beacon Hills if they didn’t kill anyone. And again, if someone - Lydia - has done her research, the brunet would have known they were a coven famous for their sacrificial rituals. He obviously wouldn’t have unknowingly provoked them into attacking and kidnapping members of his pack a few days later. Of course they had all tried getting them back, but the witches were setting a protective barrier around their headquarters and slowly expanding it one sacrifice at a time. None of the pack had any magic, and the only person they knew who might have any had left them 2 years prior.

So now Scott was fuming; Derek, Erica and Boyd were stuck between the witches claws, and the werewolf didn’t know for how long. He knew they hadn’t been used as sacrifices yet, pack bonds still intact but throbbing in pain. They weren’t dead but they weren’t fine either. The only solution he saw was getting Stiles to come back, and since no-one had any contact with him, their only potential link was Peter.

Scott nearly gagged just thinking of seeing that monster and acknowledging that there had even been a relationship between him and Stiles.

With a low growl of annoyance, Scott set off towards Peter’s apartment with Isaac, Liam and Kira in tow - Lydia had opted to stay back, admitting with difficulty that she would be more of a liability than helpful.

* * *

 As soon as Scott turned off the ignition on his dirt bike, he could tell something wasn’t right. At first, he thought that Peter just wasn’t home; he couldn’t hear a heartbeat on the 6th floor, but when the group stepped out of the elevator and stood in front of the front door they all tensed. The door was split down the middle, one side still upright and hanging off its hinges while the other lay on the floor.

With a wary glance at the others and a silent warning to be ready just in case, Scott stepped into the apartment, carefully looking around and smelling for any danger. He knew there was no one left in the apartment, but they could have left any number of traps.

The others followed slowly, checking every corner as well, and when everyone was satisfied with their search, they met back in the living room, looking at each other in confusion.

Apart from a few pieces of furniture that obviously broke because of a fight, nothing else seemed disrupted. Whoever took Peter obviously wasn’t here to take anything other than the werewolf.

Scott let out a frustrated growl; Peter was their last chance at finding Stiles.

“Now that that monster got taken we’ll never get Stiles back and we’ll never find the others.” With another growl louder than the previous one, Scott swiped at a damaged armchair, sending it crashing into the wall as Isaac, Kira and Liam watched with various degrees of worry.

No one approached the obviously fuming Alpha and Kira called out instead.

“Well, he might not be here but maybe we could find some information on where Stiles is...?“

Liam quickly nodded along.

“Right! Stiles was dating Peter before he left! He might have given Peter a way to contact him!”

The Alpha let himself calm down slowly, he was no use to anyone if he was angry, he had to think of the others in those witches hands, he had to get them out.

When he was notably calmer, he gave a nod in their direction and apologized for his lack of control.

All three of his betas smiled at him, offering reassurance.

“Alright, Liam you take the living room here, Kira you take the office and Isaac and I will take the bedroom considering how big it is.”

With a quick nod, everyone got to work.

\---

Surprisingly, Kira ran out of the office only 5 minutes later with a sip of ripped paper in her hand and calling out to the boys. They all rushed to her and she held it up with a smile.

“It’s a phone number! It might be Stiles!”

There was a collective sigh of relief, Isaac and Liam because they felt bad about rooting through Peter’s stuff without permission, and Scott simply because he hated being in Peter’s space any longer.

Scott plucked the paper out of Kira’s hands, ignoring her slight frown at the action, and dialed the number with his phone.

The 4 of them held their breath as the phone rang once, twice, thrice. Isaac finally let out a small gasp when the ringing stopped and a ‘hello’ sounded through the phone.

“Uh, hi? Stiles? That you?”

There was a short silence before the person on the other end spoke again.

“How did you get my number McCall.”

Scott frowned at the use of his last name, while the others shared glances between each other.

“Stiles you need to come back to Beacon Hills, we need your magic.”

There was only a tense silence to answer him, and the other 3 glanced from the phone to Scott’s frowning face with wide eyes. This didn’t seem like the best way you get him back.

Frustrated, Scott huffed down the phone.

“There are these witches and they’ve got Derek, Erica and Boyd and they might sacrifice them.”

“And they’ve got Peter too.”

Liam added quickly, shrugging helplessly in response to Scott’s glare. It might motivate Stiles to come back, and Scott had wanted to do anything to get him back.

“That really isn’t my problem, I left you all 2 years ago and I don’t plan on coming back, so if you guys don’t mind, I’ve got other things to do.”

Scott’s frown deepened, trying to think of anything that might get Stiles to change his mind and Kira moved fast, plucking the phone out of the alpha’s hand.

“Hey Stiles, Kira here, I know you left us and all, but these witches aren’t only causing problems for us. The whole town’s being engulfed in their weird magic bubble and they’re sacrificing a bunch of innocents. Not only that but the leftovers of their rituals aren’t exactly discrete, people are starting to notice things and if it keeps going, they might actually find out about the supernatural. I’m pretty sure that’s not a good idea.”

The kitsune held her breath as soon as she was finished, locking eyes with Isaac as they all waited for a response. Hopefully a threat to the town would be enough to motivate him.

There was another long silence and Liam titled the phone screen towards himself to make sure the call hadn’t cut out. A second later a sigh sounded from the speaker and Stiles spoke once more.

“That does sound like a pretty bad situation. Fine, I’ll come deal with the witch problem.”

The four young adults shared hopeful glances but they gradually turned into hurt ones as Stiles continued to speak.

“But let me make this clear, I’m only coming for this witch issue because it could do some damage to the nemeton and I don’t particularly want beacon hills to spread news of the supernatural anywhere. When I am done dealing with them I am leaving for good and you will never contact me again. Also, as long as I am in beacon hills and dealing with the problem, we’re doing things _my_ way.”

Scott frowned suddenly and opened his mouth, ready to argue, but before he could Stiles’ voice, now much lower and sounding very much like an order echoed in the room. Kira couldn’t tell if it was just the authority in his voice that made that effect or if the sound had truly resonated all the way to their end.

“That means if I deem them too dangerous, I kill them.”

Scott’s eyes were glowing an angry red, fists clenching and unclenching, and Kira reached out and took one of them in both of her hands. When Scott’s eyes snapped up to meet with hers she shoot her head, pleading for him to let it go and accept what Stiles was saying. They really had no choice, and honestly, Kira and the others weren’t all that against killing the witches if they had the chance. The only reason they didn’t was because their alpha had ordered them not to kill them. He had scolded them for even suggesting it, claiming that everyone deserved to live and get a second chance. In all honesty Kira found it somewhat surprising that Scott was still this naïve.

Kira, Isaac and Liam’s postures visibly slackened as soon as Scott let out a breath and grunted an affirmative to Stiles.

“I’ll be there tomorrow, around noon. I’ll come find you as soon as I’m ready.”

And with a resounding click, the call ended.

Scott squeezed Kira’s hand gently and gave her a smile in thanks before turning and addressing them all.

“Alright I guess that’s all we can do for now. We can all head home and if any one of you gets contacted by Stiles tomorrow, let me know and we’ll all meet. Kira, if you could let Lydia know what happened that’d be cool.”

Kira gave him a nod and they all left the apartment, getting into their vehicles and waving as they drove away.

* * *

Stiles sighed as soon as he slid in the rental car, starting it up and heading straight to the hotel. He wished he could simply stay in his old home, but he had had to sell it pretty soon after moving away, there was no way a 17-year-old kid could pay for the house. So it went up for sale and had their stuff put in storage.

Once there he parked the car, collected the room key and went up to settle in. He dropped off the suitcase before settling at the desk and powering up his computer; he had some researching to do.

Scott sat in his beanbag, glaring at the tv as he played a video game. Playing a game where the objective was simply ‘kill enemies’ was an effort to try and forget that his friends were somewhere being held by witches, and helped him work off some of the frustration he was feeling concerning the situation in general. Unfortunately it proved useless, as he only grew more and more frustrated as he kept losing, and the fact that it was 5 in the evening with no news of Stiles didn’t help _. His friends were in danger damn it! How could Stiles not care! These were his friends too!_

The remote in his hands creaked with the force he used to grip it, and only survived thanks to his phone’s ringtone echoing through the room. The brunet tossed the remote to the side with a clang and leaped to his bed to pick up the phone. Isaac’s voice sounded through the speaker and informed him that Stiles wanted them to meet at Deaton’s clinic.

As soon as the call ended Scott rushed downstairs, slipped on his shoes and ran out to his bike, ignoring his mother’s calls to turn off his lights when he went out.

As he drove he wondered how their reunion would go. Obviously Stiles held a grudge of some sort, but Scott just didn’t see what he had done. Stiles was the one that had up and left after the death of the sheriff, abandoning his friends during a hard time. Stiles wasn’t the only one who had lost someone. It wasn’t right for Stiles to freeze him out like that, to talk to him as if Scott had done anything to him.

He parked his bike in the parking lot at the back of the vet clinic, before hopping off and entering the building. As soon as he stepped behind the counter and into the back room, he frowned at the sight of Kira, Isaac, Lydia and Liam already present. His eyes quickly flicked over to the other side of the room as he noticed another person, eyes widening as he took in the sight before him.

Stiles stood in front of him, watching him with an impassive gaze and leaning back against the counter behind him with his arms crossed. Stiles stared at him for a second more before uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off the counter, heading to the middle of the room where a table stood. On it Scott noticed a map of beacon hills, adorned with small cross marks and large circles growing in size. The others followed Stiles’s lead and gathered around the table. All five of them shifted their gaze to him when he didn’t move and Stiles finally spoke.

“McCall, mind joining us? Or do you not want to figure out how to get your friends back.”

Scott gave a start and hurried over, frowning – again – at the way Stiles spoke.

When everyone was present Stiles started, pointing at the various crosses on the map.

“These are the places where the sacrifices took place, and these,” He pointed to the circles this time. “are the barriers that are being put up each time. Now everyone here knows that they are growing with each death, and we need to stop them before the entirety of Beacon Hills is surrounded because otherwise there will literally be nothing any supernatural being can do to get in and stop them.” He looked at them all and they nodded grimly. They all knew how serious this was.

“Now all four of you are supernatural beings, so neither of you can get in, but I can. I’m going to need the witches distracted for me to get in and dispel the barrier. Now do any of you know how many of them there are?”

Scott shared a few looks with the others but none of them could give Stiles an answer. They had never really had the time to count them.

 “I don’t know how many there are in total but I know I’ve fought with at least 6 different witches.” Liam mentioned with a shrug of his shoulders.

Stiles nodded at the answer. “That sounds about right. I’ve done a bit of research on them, looked around to see if anyone knew of a coven moving here and I found out that they’re a very old coven. As far as I can find, they were founded in the 1600s in Spain. They were hidden for the most part, and they honestly weren’t malicious; they used their powers to help others with healing mostly. But then when the hunt for witches started, many of the people they had saved accused them. They were a coven of at least 25 witches and there ended up being only 3 left; one adult and 2 children. Valentina Alcoser lost her own daughters to the hunt and fled with the 2 remaining girls.

They disappeared for years before the coven emerged once again 20 years later. Only this time, with the 2 girls, Luciana Alejos and Isabella Carnero as the coven’s leaders, they decided that destruction was a better goal. Their coven was and is still 60 members strong and they decimated the village that killed their old members. After that they spent years traveling all over the world, splitting into what you could call sub-covens, and trying to get stronger. Luciana and Isabella taught their coven that humans were evil and that they all deserved to die. Only over time, I think that the generations decided that anyone that wasn’t part of their coven were the enemy.”

“But why are they only sacrificing one person every 10 days now, instead of just killing everyone in Beacon Hills?” Lydia asked, frowning up at Stiles.

“They’re trying to use a spell to summon a demon; they most likely need the power of the nemeton and are sacrificing people to give it enough power for the summon.”

Stiles let it all sink in for a moment before moving on. “There’s obviously a sort of order for the sacrifices, and since the last one was a week ago, we have 3 days to put a plan into action. Now the 3 of you – not including Lydia since she’s not resistant like you – won’t be enough to hold off 60 witches long, so I called in some…acquaintances…for help. They’ll be here tomorrow and they’re already filled in on the plan, so I just need to get you guys up to date.”

* * *

 

2 days later, Scott stood at the edge of the forest, Liam on his left and Isaac to his right. As soon Isaac’s phone beeped they were off, sprinting into the forest as fast as they could. 30 seconds later they heard multiple shouts heading their way and skidded to a halt in a large clearing, before getting into position and waiting.

\---

Kira stood to the side, still hidden in the forest and waited. She watched as the three werewolves arrived and when a group of about 30 witches appeared on the other side of the clearing. The air was tense, she could feel the energy in the atmosphere grow and with a growl her friends leaped forwards, running at the witches.

\---

Stiles crept carefully towards the warehouse, keeping an eye out for any sort of patrol. He spotted two witches at the back entrance and crouched down to the ground. He laid his palms on the tree next to him and watched as tree roots grew too fast for either of the young witches to react, crushing them against the building. He walked past their corpses and entered the back entrance, searching for the ritual room.

\---

Scott panted as he slashed at a nearby witch before leaping out of the way as a dagger whizzed past him. He saw Isaac manage to slice one’s throat open out of the corner of his eye and ran at a nearby witch, slashing at her face and hearing her scream. Scott cringed at the sound, hating the fact that they were fighting to kill. But Stiles was right, there was no choice. It was kill or be killed.

\---

The coven obviously had a strategy going, half of the witches attacking fast and with less dangerous spells, while the others stayed further back, taking their time in creating more complex attacks. Scott had just avoided being burned by a small fireball when chains wrapped around his left arm. He tried to pull them off but more wrapped around his other arm, pinning him. He whipped his head from one side to the other, snarling as he saw a witch on either side and each holding one of the chains. He pulled at them and smiled briefly as he felt them give under his strength, but it was soon wiped off his face as more witches held onto the chains.  
Scott could feel the chains strengthening, saw them thickening before his eyes as they immobilized him. He saw more movement from the corner of his eye and they widened as he spotted a witch a few feet away from him, smirking and twirling a fireball, bigger than before, around her hands.

He whimpered as he desperately pulled at the chains more. He saw the witch ready to hurl the ball his way and closed his eyes tightly.

\---

Kira saw the fight unfold before her eyes, keeping track of how the boys were doing. She needed the right moment. When she spotted Scott getting caught he moved, whistling low and long, before sprinting across the clearing. As she ran she felt the ground shake slightly, thousands of tiny feet pounding. Just as she rammed into the 3 witches holding Scott’s right arm, a hoard of rats rushed out of the woods. The hoard split with one group climbing, scratching, biting the 3 witches holding Scott’s other arm, and the rest heading for the remaining witches.

\---

As soon as the witches unlatched from the chains he could feel them weakening instantly, letting him break them. Screams filled the air and soon enough half of them were overwhelmed, falling into the sea of rats as they fruitlessly tried to defend themselves from the creatures. The rodents had specifically targeted the short ranged attackers, leaving the others defenseless. They had no time to use their spells and the werewolves descended on them, ripping out their throats with growls and howls. Kira joined in as well, slipping out her sword and attacking.

\---

Waiting in the car, Lydia tensed as the sensation of pure death and destruction started to overwhelm her. She whipped out her phone and sent a text to Stiles before passing out.

\---

Stiles felt the vibration in his pocket and whipped out his phone to check, cursing as he read the message. He hurried down the final hallway and burst into a large room illuminated by an insane amount of candles. The remaining half of the coven stood chanting in a circle. Stiles could see Derek, Erica, Boyd and Peter tied to the far wall and gagged, chains no doubt laced with wolfsbane. The werewolves' eyes whipped in his direction while the witches continued with their chanting. As the ritual came to an end, the air seemed to be sucked out of the atmosphere as the walls shook and smoke swirled around in the middle of the room before floating upwards to create a huge cloud. The sound of thunder resonated and with the crack of lightning hitting the ground, _something_ stood.

Time seemed to stand still as the creature shifted from a crouch to a standing position. It was a humanoid creature, seemingly female, with dark blue skin and swirling horns protruding from its head.

It hovered slightly above ground and took in its surroundings before its head turned to face a witch as she spoke and motioned to Derek and the others.

“Demon, this coven offers you these four werewolves as a sacrifice. Please take their souls as payment for your help in defeating our enemies!”

The demon turned to look at the werewolves in a contemplating manner, but before it could answer Stiles’s voice rang out calmly.

“Azuka demon, I will offer you a better deal. I would give you these 45 witches’ souls and all I ask of you is to look over this town and ensure it’s safety. The nemeton of this land is under my safekeeping and will be taken care of.”

The witches snarled as soon as they noticed his presence and prepared to cast spells, but were interrupted as the waved a clawed hand and froze them still. It gazed at Stiles and seemed to look for something, before smirking.

“You have guts, young mortal, who are you.”

“Mieczyslaw Stilinski, son of Claudia Gajos and Noah Stilinski.”

The demon let out a contemplating hum before answering.

“I accept your offering, young one, but it nevertheless, cheating a summon cannot go unpunished. Are you ready to pay for this offer?”

Stiles simply smiled and nodded his head.

“Beacon Hills is mine, I would pay any price for its safety.”

This answer seemed to be satisfied with the answer and nodded once.

“Come here young one, it is time to be marked.”

Stiles walked towards the Azuka demon, stopping right in front of it. Its clawed hand came to rest upon his shoulder, slowly making its way down his chest before stopping at his hip. Stiles teeth clenched all the while but didn’t make a sound as a burning pain followed the gentle touch. As soon as its hand receded, Stiles bowed deeply to the demon.

“I thank you greatly for this gift, your highness, and I promise to ensure the safety of the great nemeton.”

He straightened up and looked the demon in the eyes. It gazed back and inclined his head in acknowledgment before Stiles backed away until he was out of the circle of witches. He headed over to the werewolves as 3 of them looked at him with impossibly huge eyes, and the last one smirked at him. As he untied them his gaze stayed fixed on the events happening little ways away.

Azuka held its hands in the air before flicking them, sending its claws racing through the room, splitting into smaller claws and impaling the frozen witches where they stood. As soon as they were all struck, they turned into a reddish liquid, sliding up the demon’s sharp extremities before being absorbed. The demon faced Stiles once more and addressed him.

“I will be going now, young one, the other 15 have been collected already.”

Stiles stopped untying Derek and faced the demon, bowing once more.

“I thank you again, your highness.”

The demon inclined its head once before fading.

Stiles turned to the others and continued to untie them, ignoring their incredulous stares. As soon as he got to Peter he locked eyes with him smirked. He stayed crouched in front of the werewolf and murmured appreciatively.

“Wow Peter, gagged and tied up is a nice look on you.”

He received a wink in return, and Stiles let out a laugh, untying him and ignoring the gazes he felt burning into his back. As soon as he was untied Peter stood, grabbed the boy and crowded him against the wall before shoving his face in the human’s neck and inhaling deeply.

“That was magnificent darling, anything less and I would have been disappointing.” He murmured against Stiles skin, eliciting a small shudder.

“Well,” the brunet answered. “I aim to please.”

“That you do.”

A cough sounded from behind Peter and Stiles peeked over his shoulder, noticing the whole pack present. He gently dislodged the werewolf and stepped forward to face them, letting a smile grace his lips as Peter simply molded himself to his back – arms possessively wrapping around his waist – and planted a feather-light kiss where his neck met his shoulder, before gazing at the pack impassively.

“So,” Started Stiles. “that went well.”

Erica spluttered as she tried to formulate a response and Boyd spoke for her.

“What the hell just happened Stilinski.”

“Well, the witches sacrificed a bunch of people in an attempt to summon a demon to kill anyone they wanted, but they obviously didn’t do their research properly. They probably picked the first demon they found with the words ‘chaos’ and ‘destruction’ in the description. Only they summoned the Azuka demon. As in the demon of death and destruction, but only of those who deserve it.”

“And the punishment it gave you, what is it?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, it’s nothing too important.”

Derek gave him a glare at his obvious deflection but didn’t push for more. Liam raised his hand though, glancing uncertainly at Stiles. The human let out a snort before talking.

“This isn’t school Liam, you don’t have to raise your hand to talk.”

The young wolf quickly brought his hand down with another shrug before speaking.

“So those rats out there, where exactly did they come from? Because when the witches died they kinda just melted into the ground.”

Stiles ignored Erica’s shriek of ‘Rats!’ in favor of answering Liam’s question.

“They’re from a spell. To put it simply they’re the earth taking on the form of rats. They could have been any other sort of animal. And before anyone asks why rats,” He gave a pointed look to Erica and she closed her mouth. “I chose them because one, they’re a much smaller target, two, they’re fast, three, they can bite really hard and four, in hoards they are practically unstoppable.”

Stiles could see Scott about to open his mouth and he held up his hand.

“Scott don’t. I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit so shut it.”

All heads turned to Scott as his frown deepened and he glared at Peter.

“So,” Stated Kira. “I think it would be best if we all went home for the night. We can maybe meet up for a bit tomorrow? There are some things that I’d like to talk about.” She said as she gazed questioningly at Stiles.

He let out a sigh in response and nodded slightly. _Might as well get it over with._ Kira beamed and headed out, the rest of the pack following her while sending looks over their shoulder at the two left. As soon as they were all gone, Stiles felt his knees buckle and his leg give away. Peter, having sensed this, tightened his hold on the human and lowered him slowly to the ground. He sat Stiles down sideways in his lap, tucked the exhausted man’s head under his chin and leaned back against the wall. He wrapped one arm back around his waist while the other came up to stroke through his hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp. He chuckled at the low moan of pleasure that slipped out of Stiles’s mouth, pressing a kiss to his temple as he murmured?

“You did so good darling, it went as well as we could have planned it. I couldn’t be prouder and I know that if your father was here he would be just as proud as I am, if not prouder.”

And although it had been 2 years, after such an exhausting day, at the mention of his father Stiles felt the tears rise up and spill from his eyes. Deep sobs wracked his frame and he felt Peter hold him tighter, closer, felt him tuck his head further up and in his neck and simply let him let it all out.

It felt like an eternity before he felt himself calm down enough to push away and look up to Peter’s face. He wrapped his arms up and around Peter’s shoulders before pulling himself up enough to press his lips to the werewolves’. It didn’t go further than a simple press of the lips but it conveyed just how much Stiles had missed his lover. Two years without physical contact was rough, especially for a werewolf and somewhat touch-starved young man. When they pulled away Stiles made to stand up but let out a yelp when he was pulled back into Peter’s lap.

“You’re not walking in this condition, darling, you’re exhausted.”

Said the older man as he got to his feet with Stiles still in his arms, bridal style. Normally Stiles would protest; he was strong, he could take care of himself. But this time he simply let it go, he really was exhausted, and it didn’t hurt that he got to cuddle up to the handsome werewolf carrying him.

\---

He must have dozed off for a while because when he opened his eyes again he was in Peter’s apartment, laying on the man’s – their– bed and carefully being undressed. Peter had already managed to take off his red converse and jeans and was in the process of divesting him of his familiar flannel. It might have been 2 years but his fashion sense hadn’t changed much. Stiles winced when his right shoulder was moved, as careful as it was. Peter paused and his eyes flicked to Stiles, sympathetic. Stiles simply smiled at him and sat up, letting the shirt fall off his shoulders instead. He then lifted his arms, carefully again, and waited for Peter to lift his undershirt. The older man did, setting the shirt aside with the rest of their clothes – Stiles only just noticed that Peter was in pyjamas. He then grabbed one of his shirts and some sweatpants before making his way back to the bed. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the long mark that ran from Stiles’s right shoulder, all the way down to his hip, stopping just above his pants line. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to touch, pausing briefly to silently ask for permission. Stiles nodded and Peter’s hand lay gently on his shoulder, gaze taking it all in. It wasn’t exactly a scar, but more of a mix between one and a tattoo. The lines looked drawn on with ink, but the skin was raised and bumpy. Peter traced the lines and all its pathways with his fingers, before letting his hand rest on Stiles' hip and looking up at him, finding his gaze averted.

He lifted his hand and curled his fingers around the young man’s chin but didn’t force him to turn his head. Instead, he murmured.

“Darling, look at me please.”

Unable to resist, Stiles let Peter turn his face until he was gazing into his piercing blue eyes.

“These marks are beautiful. Not in the traditional sense, no, but they tell a story. They tell me the story of how you were willing to make a sacrifice for the safety of innocents. All that time tracking the coven, luring them to beacon hills and punishing them. You had no obligation but you did it anyway. They remind me of why I love you, and how _much_ I love you.”

By the time Peter had finished Stiles was crying again, only this time they were silent tears instead of guttural sobs. He gave Peter a watery smile before whispering a thank you.

Peter smiles back before pressing a soft kiss to his lovers' lips in response. Once he pulled back he started to get Stiles dressed and ready for bed, they were both tired. Both of them slipped under the covers and Stiles snuggled up tight into Peter’s space, sighing in contentment when he felt the werewolf’s protective embrace. With one last whispered ‘I love you’ both men let sleep overcome them.

* * *

A day later found Stiles in Peter’s lap once more, only this time they weren’t alone and they weren’t in an abandoned warehouse. They sat on Scott’s couch, with the rest of the pack sitting around them. Most of them were in good spirits, happy to be safe, happy that the witch problem was no more and simply happy that Stiles was back. The only one that wasn’t in a festive mood was Scott, who stood in the living room’s doorway and glared at Peter.

Boyd decided to ask Peter how he hadn’t gone feral with his pack ties broke, and he easily answered that not _all_ of his pack ties had broken as locked eyes with eh young man in his lap.

Derek decided to ask him about his punishment once more and Stiles contemplated not telling him once more, but thought against it.

“First of all when I left Beacon Hills I ended up in Florida, where I met a druid who taught me some basic stuff. The rest I ended up learning on my own through the internet, books and simple trial and error. I can mostly control plants and elements that are linked with the earth and nature. The punishment that the Azuka gave me taints my power slightly. Usually, controlling nature and stuff is pretty harmless; making a tree or a vine grow doesn’t really have a negative impact. Only now, I have to be more careful with how or when I use my power. Any plant I grow, for example, will be slightly wrong. Trees with grow bare, vines will have thorns, stuff like that. On one hand, it can be handy or even beautiful in its own way, but on the other, if I leave that plant where it is, it will overtake the others and replace it. If I were to grow a vine in a jungle and leave it there, a month or so later the entire jungle will be filled with only those thorny vines. I can ruin an ecosystem with changes like that. So now I either have to limit the use of my power or at the very least get rid of any trace of my power when I’m done.”

After about half an hour of catching up with the pack and ignoring Scotts glares, Stiles decided to do something about it.

 “Do you have something to say, Scott? Or are you going to keep glaring.”

The room went silent as all eyes landed on Scott. He huffed a breath and spoke through clenched teeth.

“You abandoned us! We were all going through a loss and you up and left. And now you’re back and everyone is acting as if nothing happened, as if you didn’t turn your back on us.”

The others were already protesting, assuring that they didn’t feel the same way, but Stiles cut them all off.

“First of all McCall, I don’t know if you are aware of this but I lost my _father_. He was the only part of my family I had left, and I lost him. So if I felt like grieving on my own, there is no reason I couldn’t. Second of all, I had absolutely no desire to see you considering it was essentially _your_ fault he died.”

As soon as the words left his mouth the others were scrambling to their feet, questioning the meaning behind his statement. Stiles silenced them once, more, turning to glare at Scott.

“Wow Scott, did you not tell them about how as my father lay dying on the ground you _refused_ to give him the bite? How you refused to give him a chance to live?”

The room was plunged in silence and the group looked at Scott with a mix of horror and disgust.

“You refused to bite him?” Whispered Kira in disbelief. “I can’t believe I sympathized with you over you feeling abandoned by your best friend when you let his father die! What is wrong with you Scott!”

Scott was quick to try and defend himself, tripping over his words.

“I couldn’t! He didn’t give me his permission! It would have been wrong! I couldn’t know if that was what he would have wanted!”

Lydia was the next to speak, fury in her voice.

“I’m pretty sure any parent would have liked to not outlive their own child, Scott. You disgust me.”

Scott’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, unsure as to how to defend himself as everyone started to pack their things up and head to the front door.

“Hey wait, where’s everyone going!”

“We’re going home Scott, we don’t really feel like being around you right now, maybe even never again, and Stiles and Peter are leaving Beacon Hills.”

The group closed the door and left Scott standing in his living room, alone. Everyone hugged both Stiles and Peter one last time before they all headed home.

* * *

 

Stiles and Peter lay intertwined on Stiles’s hotel bed. Their hands lay linked between them as Stiles’s head lay resting on Peter’s shoulder.

“So,” Started Stiles. “What do we do now?”

“Now, darling, we decide where we want to go and live the rest of our lives.”

Stiles gazed up at Peter and nodded. “Now that, is an idea I can get behind.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t hesitate to leave a comment, I really appreaciate it. Criticism is fine.


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